


Lord Fancy Britches

by cr_rc



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cr_rc/pseuds/cr_rc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the dakinkmeme prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?thread=60880634</p>
<p>In a freak accident Dorian is reduced to walking on all fours while trying to get help.</p>
<p>(AKA Dorian gets turned into a cat)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord Fancy Britches

**Author's Note:**

> Based on: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?thread=60880634#t60880634
> 
> In this the Inquisitor is the Lady Inquisitor, race puposefully left ambigious, and Hawke is non-binary so I used they/their pronouns when they're briefly mentioned.
> 
> This is my first (ever) fic, my spouse was kind enough to proof read for me, so here it goes! Hope you all enjoy!

All his life Dorian had been fighting against those who wanted to change him. His father and mother, former peers and friends. How ironic he found it now, as he stumbled and bumped into the battlement walls of Skyhold, that he would be the one to change himself.

 

He opened his mouth, wanting desperately to call for help. The smells were too intense, the light bouncing off the mountains too bright for his eyes and he could barely keep his feet under himself. All that came out though, was a sad and pitiful:

 

“Mew.”

 

Dorian jerked in surprise, the noise that had left his mouth, his throat, having startled him. ‘That is not what I said!’ he thought desperately, before trying again to call for someone.

 

“Mrooww!”

 

This cry was longer and sounded slightly more desperate, it was less shocking now that Dorian was half-anticpating it. The cry echoed back slightly to him as he slowed his disoriented trot, then stopped altogether. He needed to not panic, he needed to assess the situation like the scholar he was (no matter the current and _temporary_ package).

 

What did he last remember? He had been up in the new mage’s tower, going over some of the books Leliana’s agents had recently “aquired” for the rebels’, as well as the Inquisitions use. He had spotted one, a very ancient looking text, written in what he was now suspecting had been Ancient Tevene that had peeked his interest.

 

He closed his eyes, thinking back harder. He remembered touching the book, brushing his bejewled fingers along it’s edges. He had just noticed the pages of the book begining to crumble, turning to dust, when the book flew open with a flash of light.

 

And then, he was _this_.

 

A cat.

 

Dorian could feel the distress rising, making his chest feel tight. He let out another soft ‘meow’ before he began once again making his way along the battlements, at a slightly more controlled pace. He was trying desperately to think of who to go to. If this had happened last week, he knew he would go to Cole. He had heard the strange boy speaking to a mouse once, so he knew he would have been able to help. However, luck was not on his side. The Inquisitor had taken Cole, The Iron Bull and Solas with her to Crestwood, looking for Hawke and their warden friend.

 

Stopping again, Dorian quickly looked around, trying to reorient himself. He was near the Commander’s office. The Commander was a clever man, as evidence by Dorian’s multiple losses in chess against him. And he was a former templar, Dorian figured that Cullen should be able to suss out a mage-y issue with little problem.

 

When he made it to the Commanders office, he realized very quickly he had one, well _two_ problems.

 

He had no thumbs.

 

He tried for a while to scratch and meow at the door to no avail, no one answered. Dorian could feel the tightness in his chest increase, like someone was giving him a too-tight bear hug. He continued to scratch, his cries growing louder just as a shadow fell over him.

 

“Well, hello there.”

 

_Cullen_.

 

Dorian tipped his head up and back, ears and nose twitching quickly as he looked up at the blonde Fereldan. The tall (so much taller when Dorian is now so small) man smiled down at Dorian, and the Tevinter mage felt that tightness ease just the slightest. Things would get fixed, Cullen was one of the advisors and Commander of the Inquisitions army for a reason.

 

Standing, Dorian wound his sleek black body (and wouldn’t Felix have had a chuckle at one of the few times Dorian hadn’t been concerned with his appearance) around the Commander’s legs, letting out more pitiful cries.

 

Suddenly, Dorian could feel himself flying through the air with only minimal support against his belly. Instinct he didn’t understand caused him to lash out, claws extended as a hiss tore from his throat. How _dare_ Cullen pick him up like that!

 

“Hey now! None of that!” Cullen had exclaimed, lifting his arm quickly to ward of Dorian’s quick, yet imprecise clawing. Quickly Dorian found himself tucked against the Commander’s chest, as the man reached out to open his office.

 

Dorian was still growling softly when he was gently deposited on Cullen’s desk.

 

“You don’t look like any mouser we have running around here. You look like a lord of lady’s companion.” Dorian found himself pleasantly surprised when Cullens fingers gently scritching behind his ear. The growling was replaced with a soft rumble Dorian felt deep in his chest, the sound and vibration helping to calm him. “Aw see, you’re not so bad.” Dorian felt his free ear twitch with irritation. How _rude._

 

~*~

 

Cullen had left Dorian alone not long after that, but not before opening the door that lead to Solas’s rotunda, allowing an exit if the feline wanted it. The Commander managed to ignore, or outright laugh at all of Dorian’s attempts to get his attention and make him understand what had happened.

 

First he had tried sitting directly infront of Cullen while attempting to make eye contact, covering the letters and forms scattered on that man’s desk. Cullen had _laughed_ before depositing Dorian into his lap to be pet from head to tail. And while that was nice, it would have been much nicer in his own body. In this one, he expressed his happiness for the moment with a purr; however he quickly became irritated that Cullen had gone back to paper work. Dorian rolled quickly to his back before latching on to the Commander’s arm, still convered with his gloves, and began to bite and kick with his hind legs.

 

He was quickly put on the floor after that.

 

Next he tried tugging on Cullen’s cloak, gently at first. On the first hard tug though, Dorian felt his claws snag in the fabric and he was unable to free himself. He danced around a bit on his back legs, making unhappy noises as he pulled and thrashed. Cullen eventually freed him, as he _laughed_.

 

The final straw for the Commander, it seemed, was when Dorian had deliberately knocked over his inkwell. While maintaining eye contact with the Commander.

 

He was scooped up, not as quickly and much more gently than the first time, and cradled tightly to Cullen’s chest as the man made his way out onto the battlements and towards the keep proper. In the moment, Dorian foolishly hoped that Cullen finally _got it_ and was on his way to get help in turning Dorian back into his handsome and human self.

 

However, he wasn’t sure how much help Josephine was going to be. Cullen gently (the man was so gentle while handling his feline form) placed Dorian on Josephine’s desk, causing the Antivan woman to let out a surprised ‘oh’.

 

“I found this beast,” Dorian hissed, _how rude_ , “wandering near my tower. He looks too groomed to be one of Skyhold’s mousers. Did one of your guests lose their friend?” The Commander had reached back out and began petting Dorian’s ear again, causing him to reluctantly purr for the man.

 

“Not that I’m aware of Commander. Most of our noble guests give very...specific instructions when they bring an animal companion.” Josephine answered, reaching out to scratch under Dorian’s chin. “He is quite the handsome cat though, isn’t he?” she cooed as Dorian tried not to melt under the duel scritches.

 

“Well perhaps someone will come forward, though if he is as...lively as he was in my office, perhaps no one will.” Cullen chuckled before stepping away. “I need to get back to work. Good luck with him.”

 

Dorian watched with not a little distress as the Commander walked away. He allowed Josephine to coo over him as he lay down on her desk, feeling as though a despair demon had brushed against him.

 

~*~

 

Days passed, and though no one had figured out Dorian was a cat, they had eventually figured out he was missing. It was on the second day of Dorian’s transformation that he first heard someone mention to Josephine that he was missing. He had spent the last days in Josephine’s office because the woman seemed to have an unending urge to pet him and because when the Inquisitor got back, this would be the first place she went.

 

It had been Leliana who delivered the news, with a grim look on her face. “Dorian’s missing. No one has seen him since he went into the mage’s tower for inventory.” The Spymaster tugged on her gloves, looking like she was adjusting her gloves when it was in fact a fidget. “I had my scouts go over the books and potions that were there and had them cross reference their original list. One of the books is missing. It was an ancient Tevinter Grimoire.”

 

Josephine frowned continuing the long strokes of the sleek black cat in her lap, even as she began to shuffle papers with a single hand. “Do you truly feel the two are connnected?” Josephine asked hesitantly. Dorian’s ears twitched, an unpleasant feeling settling in his stomach that even Josephine’s expert strokes couldn’t get rid of.

 

Leliana sighed heavily, her mask cracking for a moment, her face equally sad and furious. “There have always been murmers that perhaps Dorian’s... _timely_ arrival at Haven was just that. Too timely. He’s been a model member of the Inquisition until now.” Leliana looked even more trouble now, and Dorian felt how she looked. He began to purr softly, attempting to soothe himself as he listened.

 

He had already _known_ what people thought of him. The evil ‘Vint there to spy, to destroy the Inquisition from the inside. He felt his insides quiver at Leliana’s next accusation. “But Josie,” the Spymaster began as her eyes flicked briefly to the cat in the Ambassador’s lap, where had he come from?, “that book came from a site the Venatori had been excavating. They had been attempting to reach the chamber it was in when my scouts killed them and retrieved it. I’m not saying he was a spy all along...but he did just meet with his father not too long ago, and the Inquisitor had expressed concern over a Venatori plot when they had departed. Who knows what Dorian and his father spoke of when they were alone.”

 

Dorian didn’t stay to hear more, that wound still too fresh and raw to be touched on. He didn’t hear the shout of surprise as he lept from Josephine’s lap, nor Leliana’s chuckle at the silly new cat of Skyhold that reminded her of her silly nugs.

 

~*~

 

Dorian had spent the rest of that day hiding under the tables in the great hall. Listening to the whispers the inhabitants of the hold said about him.

 

_“...a magister you know…”_

 

_“-knew he was a spy all along! Can’t trust a ‘Vint.”_

 

The true twist of the dagger was the opinions of the inner circle. Dorian knew not eveyone of the Inquisitor’s inner circle implicitly trusted him, but he thought that with blood shed together he had at least earned the benifit of the doubt.

 

Varric looked disapointed anytime someone mentioned Dorian’s name, refusing to either defend or condem the suspicions surrounding Dorian’s disapearance.

 

Madame Vivienne wore a look that said she had known all along this would happen, and stated as such when asked.

 

Dorian wasn’t surprised when Cassandra and Blackwall began to speculate on all the ways they would ‘show him’ when they eventually found him. “If he hasn’t fled back to Tevinter like the coward he is,” Blackwall had said at dinner over a week into Dorian’s transformation.

 

Dorian had thought he’d grown used to the amount of disdain that could be thrown his way. He had learnt to deal with it in Tevinter when he refused to come to heel for his father. He heard it through his travels after fleeing Tevinter (and Blackwalls words come back as a vicious whisper “ _Coward”_ ). He had tried to let as many hateful words roll from his shoulders as he could. Caring little for others, which allowed him to care little for what they thought.

 

But he had _cared_ about these people. Still did! And he realized with a horrifying lurch that he cared about what, at least some of them, thought.

 

~*~

 

Dorian tried to huddle closer to the door that would let him into the Commander’s tower. He’d had his fill of nasty whispers and hoped that the solitude that came from being further from the keep would keep them from his sensetive ears.

 

He had been out there for well over an hour when the rain had started. And wasn’t that _just_ his type of luck, he had thought glumly as he tried to hide as best he could from the icy drops. Through the heavy downpour, he saw figure moving quickly towards him. Dorian felt the distress in his chest ease slightly as he saw Cullen’s eyes land on him. “Hello again.” Cullen said, opening the door quickly and allowing Dorian to dash in first. Dorian violently shook himself, trying to rid himself of the rain water that clung to his fur.

 

“Quite the weather isn’t it?” Cullen asked with a chuckle. And for a moment, Dorian wondered if someone had followed them inside. But no, Cullen was talking to him. The blonde man moved about the office, lighting the candle on his desk that cast a faint light in the gloom brought on by the rain. Dorian moved to the desk, leaping deftly onto it and settling himself at one of the corners, beginning to groom himself as he observed the Commander.

 

Cullen moved about in an unhurried manner as he removed his wet cloak and cold armor. He was left in simple breechs and a tunic as he settled himself at his desk. He pulled papers and an inkwell towards him as he sent a small smile in Dorians direction. “I haven’t head of anyone naming you yet. I can’t very well just call you ‘cat’.” Cullen hummed softly as he began reading the report in front of him, occasionally making a note before looking up at Dorian with a grin.

 

“Lord Fancy Britches.” The smile fell as the Commander reached up to rub the back of his neck. “A friend of mine was called that sometimes, he’s missing.” The man reached out and gently pet Dorian’s wet ear, and oh how much _better_ it felt when it was Cullen’s fingers and not gloves that petted him.

 

“Or...maybe in secret, I can call you Dori?” Cullen asked with a soft smile, “you even have a little mustache like him.” The human’s fingers gently brushed under Dorian’s nose, causing him to give a small sneeze.

 

Laughing, mood seemingly lifted at least for the moment, Cullen turned back to his paper work.

 

Dorian settled himself, continuing his grooming as a warm feeling spread in his chest, encouraging his purring.

 

Maybe if he was behaved, he could stay in Cullen’s office. After all, he’d hear the horns of the Inquisitors return here as well as anywhere else in Skyhold.

 

~*~

 

That evening, when the candle had burned out, Cullen had scooped up Dorian and encouraged the cat to wrap his feline arms around the Commander’s neck. “Up we go,” was all the warning Dorian had as the man began to climb the ladder leading to the loft above. Dorian let out a small wail, not particularly enjoying the lack of support, and dug his claws sharply into the Commanders neck. “Ouch!” the man had hissed, but he did speed his ascent so Dorian considered it effective encouragement.

 

Once off the ladder, Dorian lept quickly from Cullen’s chest and began to walk around the darkened room. There was a puddle of water in the middle of the floor which Dorian walked around with a cat version of an up turned lip. _Of course_ the man hadn’t gotten the hole in his roof fixed. He turned and looked near the chest against the wall as Cullen opened it to pull out a sleep shirt.

 

Dorian jumped onto the bed and watched as the man walked over and climbed onto the bed. Cullen patted the large space next to him and made a soft clicking noise that drew Dorian’s attention. Slinking over, Dorian curled up next to the Commander, and began purring as the man rested his large calloused hand on his head, gently rubbing his ears.

 

It would just figure that when he finally finds a handsome man who wants him in his bed, Dorian is a _cat_.

 

Dorian had only been dozing a few hours when he felt the hand that had moved to his back tighten almost painfully. Startled, Dorian tried to pull away, meeting resistance only for a moment, as he yowled loudly. The hand on his back released almost immediately, and even tried to reach after as he skittered away, just out of reach.

 

In the dark, he watched as Cullen sat up quickly, chest and back heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He watched from his position on the other side of the bed as Cullen blindly reached out in the dark with one hand while the other covered his face. “Dori?” Culled called softly, “I’m sorry, Dori, where are you? _Please?_ ”

 

How could Dorian ignore that? Hesitantly, he belly crawled across the bed, gently bumping his nose, then forehead against the hand that was still extended and looking for him. “Oh,” Cullen breathed as he lay back down and rolled to his side, curling himself gently, but tightly around the feline. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against Dorian’s shoulder as he ran trembling hands up and down the small and furry body.

 

Dorian occasionally suffered from nightmares as well, though he had never had someone there to comfort him in the aftermath. He licked at Cullen’s cheek once, tasting tears and sweat before he settled himself against the warrior and began a loud and deep purr. Through the purr Dorian heard the hitch of breath that signaled a sob.

 

He had no hands to soothe, he hoped his presence and purrs would be enough.

 

~*~

 

Dorian and Cullen fell into a routine very quickly. Everyday Cullen would rise (Dorian did _not_ ) and would go for the morning training of the troops. Around midday Cullen would return with food and water for Dorian as well as for himself. Dorian noticed that the Commander was eating more regularly when he had the responsibility of feeding his ‘Dori’ as well, and then Cullen would work at his desk until dark unless he was needed in the war room.

 

When Dorian first turned into a cat, he had been desperate to turn back. Now, almost at the three week mark of being a cat, he found he was growing used to having four legs and a tail. Oh sure, there were things he missed. Wine, sex (or the idea of it, he’d been having a bit of a dry spell for a while now) and _talking_ were what he missed the most. Now, he found himself content to doze on the Commanders desk, in his lap and on his bed. Dorian had to give it to Cullen, he was a supurb pet owner.

 

Today had been going normally, Cullen at his desk and reading his lieutenant’s reports with one hand, while the other rubbed at Dorian’s ears. The silence of the tower was inturrupted at a sharp rap on the door coming from the keep sounded.

 

“Enter,” Cullen called, only briefly raising his eyes as Leliana entered. His lips thinned as he tightened his jaw, her scouts, spies and _birds_ had yet to find any information on Dorian’s whereabouts. They behaved as if he had the ability to just vanish.

 

“Commander,” she said softly, spying the black cat that was currently sprawled in Cullen’s lap with a smile. “Found a friend? I had wondered where he had gotten to.” And while this might have made Cullen smile in the past, now his frowned deepened.

 

“Well at least that’s _one_ missing Skyhold resident found.” Dorian’s ears twitched, _‘what sass’_ , his purrs growing louder at the Commander’s words.

 

Leliana frowned, the veneer of friendliness dissipating from her face in a moment. “We’ve been through this Commander. He as well as a Grimoire desired by the Venatori vanished at the same time. I do not like conclusions without evidence, but both of them disapearing at the same time is too much to be coincidence.”

 

Cullen’s hand on Dorian stopped, which in turn stopped Dorian’s purrs. Brown eyes narrowed in anger as he gently lifted the cat to place him on his desk as Cullen rose, pulling himself to his full height, even if it wouldn’t actually intimidate the Spymaster.

 

“It is a coincident! No one saw him leave, I have spoke with everyone who had been on duty the day he vanished as well as those who were on duty the following night. No one saw him after midday.” The Commander leanded forward, bracing his hands on his desk as he met Leliana’s hard eyes. “Dorian would _never_ betray the Inquisiton, he risked his life to save us at Haven.” Leliana opened her mouth, as if to respond. “He wouldn’t.” Cullen inturrupted, almost petulantly.

 

“You don’t know that, hearts and minds change. Right, Cullen?” Dorian’s ears twitched and his back stiffened at the tone the Spymaster used, and Cullen seemed equally upset by her tone.

 

“I do. I have spent hours playing chess with the man, listening as he talks endlessly about himself in fact!” Dorian’s fur raised at that, a hiss or perhaps even a growl growing in his throat, what Fereldan _charm_.

 

“Dorian is an accomplished actor.”

 

Cullen seemed to deflate at that, sitting back heavily in his chair, hand resting on Dorian’s back, thumb stroking at the base of an ear. “He wouldn’t. In the same way that you trust me to lead this army, you must trust me on this.” Cullen looked up at her, his eyes imploring her to just _believe_ him.

 

Leliana’s face softened minutely. “I want to Commander,” she said gently. “I shall have one of my scouts search the tower again, perhaps there is something they missed.” Her tone said she found the idea doubtful. “Ah, I had come to tell you that the Inquisitor sent a message. She is going directly to the Fallow Mire to see about the missing scouts, she’s expected to be out at least another two weeks. We’ve not yet told her Dorian is gone, nothing she can do while away. And while I do understand you miss a dear friend, he is but one person.” Her gaze had hardened by the end, the softness leeching out as she began to talk of the Inquisitions missing people.

 

Dorian felt his ears droop. He was only one person. And not even a person anymore.

 

Cullen gave a curt nod in acknowledgment, a free hand moving to rub at his eyes as the door clicked closed     quietly behind the Spymaster of Skyhold.

 

Dorian’s ear twitched as they caught the sound of Cullen’s breathing increasing, and twitched again at the first choked sob and sniffle. Dorian turned, rubbing his head firmly against Cullen’s face, dark fur absorbing the near silent tears. He increased his purring as the Commander wrapped his free arm around Dorian, pulling the cat closer to his body.

 

Dorian was so concerned with trying to soothe and comfort Cullen, he never even stopped to consider that the tear might _be for him_.

 

~*~

 

That night, Cullen seemed extra drained as he carried Dorian up the ladder to the loft above. The human-turned-cat had spent most of the remaining day trying to earn a smile or even a laugh from the Fereldan at his ‘silly cat’ antics.

 

As Cullen readied himself for bed, Dorian spent time observing the man he had come to care so deeply for. And as the blonde lowered himself into bed, reaching for Dorian to snuggle against his chest Dorian realized another regret he had.

 

That he might never get to hold Cullen back.

 

He tried to push the thought away, bumping his head against Cullen’s as he settled more firmly against the man.

 

“I miss him so much,” was whispered into his fur. Cullen’s voice was pitched as that for a trusted confidant, or a secret to only be shared in the dark. Dorian’s eyes felt heavy as he pressed more firmly against Cullen, hoping to give him some comfort.

As Dorian drifted off, he barely caught Cullen’s whispered, “I never got to tell him I love him.”

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Dorian woke far too early. Even through his eyelid he could tell that it was the watery light of predawn. For a moment he floated in the space between sleep and being awake.

 

Then, his _hand_ brushed against the side of another person. His _thumb_ moved.

 

His eyes shot open, staring up at the ceiling, eyes darting around quickly. Nothing stood out with the sharpness and brightness that he had become accustomed to. Hesitantly, and with his stomach in his throat he lifted his hands in front of his face. His _human hands_.

 

A cry of joy fell from his lips, his fingers clenching and unclenching in a way that he hadn’t been able to do in a month.

 

A hand coming to rest quickly on his arm caused his head to turn sharply to the left. Gray eyes met brown, both sets wide and shocked. “Dorian?” Cullen’s sleep rough voice was hesitant, his hand moving to rest over Dorian’s heart. Dorian lifted his own hand to rest over Cullen’s has he nodded his head quickly. Dorian was mortified to feel his eyes filling quickly, his relief was so great at being _seen_ as who he was.

 

“Dori works too, apparently.” His voice was rough and hoarse, almost like when he had been a child and gotten laryngitis (Felix had mocked him endlessly for not being able to speak). He turned on his side, facing Cullen and sighed happily when the blonde shifted his hand to Dorian’s waist. Dorian also happily watched as a flush spread from Cullen’s ears  down to his neck.

 

“Um, what do you mean?” Dorian simply raised his an eyebrow, then made a soft purring noise with his mouth. It had no where near the power of his purr as a cat, but he thought it was close. And judgeing by the way Cullen’s blush deepened, the point had been made. “Maker, what idiots we are.” Cullen chuckled moving his hand from Dorian’s waist, to rest on Dorian’s slightly damp cheek.

 

Dorian covered Cullen’s hand with his own. “Thank you. For believing in me.” Dorian dropped his eyes, and thanked his complexion for hiding the worst of the blush he could feel spreading across his cheeks. How would he be able to face those of the Inquisition knowing what they had said about him. He felt a gentle nudge from the hand on his face and lifted his eyes to meet Cullen’s warm ones.

 

Cullen smiled, and scooted that much closer to Dorian, the buckles on Dorian’s clothes (and that explained where they went, Dorian thought) brushing against Cullens bare chest. “I like to think I know my friend.” And despite the word, their embrace was _far_ from friendly. “I missed you so much.” Cullen whispered, his forehead gently resting against Dorian’s as the mage let out a small hiccuping breath.

 

“I never left.” Dorian spoke softly, his nose brushing gently against Cullen’s. And for a moment both just breathed the other in, and that special warmth Dorian had felt growing before, blossomed in his chest and he felt nearly overwhelmed by the warmth he felt pressed against Cullen.

 

In the end, neither could tell who moved first, as their lips met in a gentle kiss. Perhaps the most gentle Dorian had ever experienced.

 

As the sun rose, and their lips slowly moved against one another, neither considered the talks that would have to be had with the other advisors, or the research that would need to be done to figure out exactly what had happened to Dorian. Perhaps the spell had just run its course.

 

But Dorian had always been a romantic at heart, even as he tried to hide it from all and sundry.

 

He liked to believe it was Cullen's love that broke this curse.


End file.
